When I first heard Rush Limbaugh, I thought he was joking. He reminded me of nothing as much as one of W.C. Fields' lesser portrayals, the lead character in "You Can't Cheat An Honest Man," Larsen E. Whipsnade.
Whipsnade was fond of quoting his grandfather Litvak's admonition, "just before they sprung the trap:" To quote Litvak, "You can't cheat an honest man, never try to smarten up a chump, and never give a sucker an even break!" Glory be. It's as if Litvak knew about talk radio and TV.
But my first impression was wrong. Even though Larsen E. Whipsnade was not one of Fields' great creations, he was incomparably funnier than Limbaugh. Rate Rush with radio and televangelists; Oral Roberts, Pat Robertson, the late Jerry Falwell, Jim Bakker and Jimmy Swaggart, worthies mostly from earlier decades, who were highly successful at bringing in the sheaves. Rate him also with right-wing broadcasters, including Father Charles Coughlin, and Fulton Lewis, Jr. of bygone years, as well as today’s O’Reilly, Beck, Coulter, Hannity, Drudge and others.
As did Whipsnade, they and their dozens of current emulators took aim at the bumpkins among us, the ones P.T Barnum described ages ago. Rush's act is a little different. Instead of salvation, he preaches misanthropy. Instead of soliciting money directly, Rush gets his from advertisers and from speaking engagements to like-minded corporate, political and religious groups.
It's all about money, obviously, and it's hard to tell who does better, the bible-thumpers or the misanthrope. How can this be? Try this from H.L. Mencken: "Nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the American public."
Mencken said that a long time ago, perhaps during the heyday of Aimee Semple McPherson, one of the first and most successful radio evangelists. McPherson's early career was spent on the revival circuit, and she struck gold in California. She started a new denomination in Los Angeles, named it the International Church of the Four Square Gospel, and set about erecting a suitable temple at which her growing congregation could worship. It turned out to be the prototype of the mega churches that now abound.
Sister Aimee set what must remain industry standards to this day. According to Wikipedia, her Four Square Church seated 5,800 souls. At its peak, three services were conducted daily, seven days a week, before filled pews at all of them. Nothing was left to chance. Each collection was preceded by the enjoinder, "no coins, please."
McPherson's audience multiplied when she became the first woman to be granted a radiobroadcasting license. With it, she created station KFSG, and, from the pulpit of her very own Four Square Gospel Church, reached out to additional thousands.
Indiscretions were nearly her undoing . Allegations of an illicit affair, followed by an alleged kidnapping that she was unable to convincingly explain brought her low, but still intact.
She died at 54, of an apparently accidental overdose of prescription medication.
Sister Aimee's male counterpart in the God-business back in the 20's and 30's was Father Coughlin, a Catholic priest who broadcast from Detroit. There was a difference between Father Coughlin and the other holy broadcasters. Coughlin, apparently, wasn't in it for the money. He was a sociopath with an avowed hatred of Jews.
He never actually relented. He was forced off the air by the National Association of Broadcasters who created new rules in response to his harangues. Undaunted, Father Coughlin continued to defame by means of direct mail. In 1939, however, the Roosevelt Administration decreed that he could continue to write what he wished, but could not distribute his materials through the U.S. Mail. That unique disregard of the First Amendment brought Coughlin to the brink of obscurity, and his path continued downward.
In terms of what he's selling, Rush Limbaugh more closely resembles Father Coughlin than the radio revivers. Limbaugh's misanthropy is his radio raison d'etre, his schtick. And the money is great.
The emotions that impelled Coughlin may similarly stimulate Limbaugh, who can tell? But let's leave the amateur psychoanalysis for another time. Because, for the great offenses he has given, most recently to the feminine gender, comeuppance is due. Let us hope the time will be soon.
For those who detest or simply disagree with Limbaugh, there is the handy expedient, the Great Click.
Meanwhile, we are left to consider this maxim from Publilius Syrus: Speech is a mirror of the soul; as a man speaks, so is he.
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